Category Archives: Dining

New Kid on the Block: D-Town Burger Bar

The first time I noticed a little Burger Bar had opened on 6th and Spring was a few weeks ago. It was around 2am, and I was still out from a night on the town. How sad, my friends said, pointing to empty countertops, and empty booths. Reminiscent of Boulevard of Broken Dreams, a lone fry cook and cashier in 50’s diner style uniforms stared out at dark sidewalks from behind brightly backlit glass windows.

We spoke too soon. Three minutes later, we again stumbled past the D-Town Burger Bar and—the place was full.

Local bars were starting to let out, and packs of drunk-hungry pedestrians were scouring the streets for something greasy to take the edge off their buzz. Smoke rose up from the grill, as the cook got to work on burgers and fries. Three men walked in to place their orders, I could hear Chuck Berry playing as the door swung open and closed.

I wasn’t able to join them that evening, but I was intrigued. And I’ll never judge them so harshly again, I swear. So I made a point this afternoon to revisit our new kid on the block, D-Town Burger Bar and make a proper appraisal.

When I entered, my eyes were greeted by a floor full of black and white penny tiles, shiny red plastic seats, and a busty roller girl waitress figurine standing proudly at the door. Everything was spotless, shiny, and ‘new car’ clean. There was even a nostalgic (digital) jukebox, with an unfortunate “do not touch” sign on it.

There were four meal options on the illuminated menu sign on the wall. Continue reading New Kid on the Block: D-Town Burger Bar

The Extraordinary Case of Mike Berger

Stan Lerner, editor-in-chief and creator of Downtownster is a revered cohort for whom I am indebted to Mike Berger, the subject of this entry, for making possible our acquaintance.  Mr. Lerner has been googled over 1.2 million times; his blogs (articles for Downtownster and his satirical serial Downtown Oliver Brown) have around 2 million hits; he is a screenwriter receiving residuals in seeming perpetuity; he is published in hardcover as a novelist, a long-form satirist and a children’s book author.  I am honored that he invited me to be a guest contributor to this blog and, after much consideration concerning what form to proffer (e.g., an op-ed piece, a film review, a vignette, etc.), I found it “altogether fitting and proper” to pay homage to Mr. Berger. This piece however, strictly speaking, could be classified as a restaurant review.  The restaurant is an ad hoc wine bar and it is Mr. Berger’s one-man show.

On the north side of 9th Street between Hope and Flower – as any denizen of downtown knows – is the entrance to Ralphs Market.  Its manifestation on the cityscape was like an oasis created by a meteor.  At last, under one roof, downtown had a purveyor of some of the most essential trappings of civilization.  What too many apparently do not know is, that within this architecturally unimaginative space, like gleaming crystals in a geode, lay a treasure for wine enthusiasts unparalleled anywhere in Los Angeles.  On Mondays, Tuesdays, Fridays and Saturdays between five and eight p.m., one can get both the best value and the best wines by-the-glass downtown.  For twelve hours a week, four nights of happy hours, if you will….  Don’t blink or you’ll miss out.  This is all because the store opened with an exceptional department manager.  You see, dear reader, with the advent of this civilization, like a gift from an extraterrestrial race, came a subtle, dedicated, dyed-in-the-wool service professional – a one-off, wine and spirits manager by the name of Mike Berger. That’s right, you read correctly, in Ralphs Market.
 

Part of what makes him seem like he dropped in from another planet is the complete absence of the more-knowledgeable-than-thou baggage associated with wine experts of all stripes.  Yet, Mr. Berger is at least a fourth-dan black belt in the fine art of wine and spirits.  It is equally other worldly to see one so perspicacious and sentient in a Ralphs uniform vest smiling affably at some nimrod.  Did I see him winking at another of the incognito beings sent to infuse refinement into our downtown culture?   

A large man possessing a full head of fine dark hair, and an excellent, unlined brow which presides over keen brown eyes and a remarkably smooth, pink-tinged complexion, Mr. Berger hosts the best happy hour for wine drinkers in the downtown area. He has a determined yet unaggressive mouth and is always impeccably clean-shaven. This fresh, youthful appearance makes him look a generation younger but belies a wisdom that becomes apparent to any engaged listener. There is a cultivated depth to his softly spoken tenor voice as he, with unfailingly polite deference, holds forth to the assembled imbibers a condensed education on the evening’s four or five wine offerings, like some exegete of the cannons of all-too-arcane wine jargon.  
 
The first time I heard this voice I was seeking produce and potables for a spur of the moment party invitation. This was in early September of 2007.  
Suddenly, an unusual announcement wafted over the store’s P.A. system: “…we’re tasting rosés…perfect wine for the summer months…”.  I only registered part of the message.  It’s somewhat serendipitously strange I noticed at all, since I am oblivious to such background noise in any shopping venue, as I believe most people are, just like the sound of traffic. It all translates subconsciously to: “Attention Kmart shoppers”.  Perhaps it was because of Mr. Berger’s unobtrusive vocal delivery but more likely, for me, it was the Pavlovian keywords: wine, rosés, tasting.  Having thus been skewered through the cheek with the proverbial hook, I followed his directions involuntarily to the wine tasting area.  

This sectioned off area has the highest ceiling in the store. It is separated on the entrance side by a four-foot fence-like wall dividing it from the deli and the main communal dining area.  
Shared by deli patrons, it is a sort of indoor beer garden, the effect of which is heightened by heavy, black, cast-iron garden tables and chairs.  Floor to ceiling twenty-foot high plate glass windows afford an excellent view of the street scene just south of the intersection of 9th and Hope. I later learned it has a special use alcoholic beverage license that permits wine and beer service.

I arrived to discover an unassuming but highly alert man presiding over a makeshift rolling bar that had a marvelous tray of four types of artisanal cheeses priced between $10 and $16 a pound and accompanied by a freshly sliced baguette from the peerless La Brea Bakery
.  There were likewise four wine buckets chilling dry rosé wines, three from Europe, one from California, priced between $14 and $24 per bottle.  I then met Mr. Berger, who did not presume I wanted to know his name; rather, he politely informed me that the tasting of four wines and unlimited buffet privileges would cost me seven dollars. As if this wasn’t a good enough deal, he added: “You get to keep the glass.”.  (All right, I must say the glassware was laughable.  An old-restaurant style white wine glass with a proper pedestal and stem but too conical a bowl to be good for swirling.  The kicker being the kitschy Ralphs logo in fire engine red.)  Albeit on paper plates with plastic utensils, I had this bacchanalian feast completely to myself.  This is a function of dry rosé being somewhat of an orphan wine category in the United States.   

I then began to notice that attractive women of all ages could be seen both inside and outside the store from this vantage point. I could spend all day watching the feminine form navigate sidewalks, push shopping carts, peruse display cases, hold up and evaluate items for purchase or any other thing that they do.  
The pleasure of this lifelong avocation is only enhanced by fine wines and hors-d’oeuvres.  I commented on this to Mr. Berger, as I introduced myself and learned his name. He explained: he had selected the cheeses to pair with each wine; the wines’ grape varietals, style, region, etc.; what types of food pairs well with each; and the frequency of the wine tastings themselves.  After consuming roughly three glasses, heavily weighted towards re-tasting  my favorite and sating my appetite with supercheeses, I decided to forgo the party. I had stayed until the end and Mr. Berger had suffered through some two hours of my mindless prattle and hyper-enthusiastic ranting on wine in general.  This can be pretty bad.  I’ve even been accused of being an oenophiliac: one who derives sexual pleasure from wine. Continue reading The Extraordinary Case of Mike Berger

Mistress of the MUST

When I’m not holed up in my loft, battering the keyboard of my Macbook like a diligent young writer, you can usually find me at my local haunt. Sometimes with a glass of wine, sometimes with a fluffernutter sandwich.

My neighborhood bar downtown happens to be the Must. Which is a more successful resident of the space previously known as…whatever good intentioned restaurant venture failed before it. I can’t remember the name, sorry. I heard they served Americanized tacos?? I can’t imagine why they closed…

Anyway, the Must opened its doors and is here to stay. This is why I think so:

They have a secret art gallery corridor behind the main dining room that features local talent. The wide range of food, beer, and wine selections bear the marks of a selective palate. Humboldt Fog grilled cheese sandwiches, Continue reading Mistress of the MUST

ROY’S — STARING ROY YAMAGUCHI AS HIMSELF

Over the past few years, since Roy’s opened Downtown at 8th and Figueroa, I’d guess I’ve eaten there around two hundred times. The sheer size of this number could lead one to believe that Roy’s is somehow commonplace—it’s not. I love food, I could have eaten anywhere, Roy’s is simply that good. And I should point out here that while Roy’s is a chain each Roy’s does offer dishes that are unique to each and every location—so consider this a story about Roy’s Downtown and Roy’s Downtown only.

            The story of Roy’s Downtown requires Roy’s to be considered, like Staples Center and The Standard Hotel before it and Ralphs Market and Bottega Louie after it, to be a game changer. I came to the story early on. Literally, when the space was under construction and I ran into Leslie Kaden who was working out of a temporary construction office (Now a private dining room) in the back of the space. Leslie as I recall was in charge of something to do with wine and what not. Frankly, what I recall with greater clarity was how nice she was. And after running into her a few more times she invited me into the office of humble beginnings to meet the rest of the management team responsible for opening Roy’s Downtown.

            It’s funny now to think back—how serious Matty was in those days. Matty, is the managing partner of Roy’s Downtown. Sharply dressed with a ponytail and a history with Roy Yamaguchi, the founder of Roy’s, that dates back almost twenty years, impressive under any circumstance, but particularly impressive given Matty looks all of thirty-years-old. I remember asking him something to the effect, “What, did you start working for Roy when you were ten or something?” He laughed and probably wondered why there was a writer hanging out in his construction office. I was writing a little 620 page novel titled “Stan Lerner’s Criminal” back then.

Well, Roy’s opened and became one of the most successful restaurants in our city and probably the country for that matter. My novel came out, earned rave reviews and won the Grand Prize at the Hollywood Book Festival. And Matty got used to me always being around—and eating most of the time. But more than this intersection of restaurant, restaurateur, and novelist is the sum. By sum I mean that Roy’s, Matty, and your humble writer along with tens of thousands of others became part of a community, which blessedly is greater than the sum of its parts. So, with our story now firmly standing on a foundation of a vibrant and successful community the extraordinary can now take place.

I stopped in one afternoon a few weeks ago at the DCBID’s Marketing Round Table Event—several restaurants were represented, I of course was there on behalf of downtownster. I should mention here that if you own or operate a business in Downtown and you’re not involved with DCBID and going to its’ events you’re absolutely missing out on opportunities to grow your business and meet some very good people. After the formal part of the Round Table I was chatting it up with a few of the cool people in attendance—including Aya from Roy’s.

“I’ve been wanting to do a story on Roy’s, I’ve just been waiting for something out of the ordinary to write about,” I said.

“How about May Day? We’re having a party and Roy himself is going to be there.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“And there’ll be hula girls dancing—“

“Put me down for two. I’ll be there for sure.”

Later, it struck me that Roy’s was the only restaurant I knew of doing something for this pre-Christian Holiday. I know most people think of May Day as being a Celtic celebration of the weather turning nice. But the first May Day was actually celebrated in Rome. It celebrated the Goddess Flora the Goddess of flowers and to this day it is a tradition to give flowers on May Day. So with a bit of reflection and the help of a poet you can see how this caught on in Hawaii.  

In Hawaii, May Day is also known as Lei Day, and is normally set aside as a day to celebrate island culture in general and native Hawaiian culture in particular. Continue reading ROY’S — STARING ROY YAMAGUCHI AS HIMSELF

Crown Café Best Panini In LA!

           “Stan you should try out Crown Café—and blog about it,” said cute little Sarah a wine tasting buddy of mine at Ralphs.

            “Really, I haven’t heard of it.”

            “It just opened. Emma, my roommate is the supervisor—you’ll like it.”

            “Well, what do they serve?” I asked, not always feeling up for restaurant reviews. I’m a foodie so while I enjoy restaurants, writing about them can turn a hobby into work and I’m sure you know what that can be like.

            “Coffee, panini, and some deserts,” answered Sarah.

            “Okay, but you have to go with me for lunch.”

            A week or so later I was walking with Sarah over to Crown Café, 531 S. Los Angeles St., 90013, between 5th and 6th. And since I was expecting a hole in the wall with a couple of tables, I was more than pleasantly surprised to find Crown Café to be quite spacious—perhaps 2,000sq. feet or so. The décor is reminiscent of a Starbucks, but much nicer. And no automated espresso machines, they’re grinding and pulling shots by hand the way it should be done. Continue reading Crown Café Best Panini In LA!

Church and State

I’ve lived in France twice, once at age 18 when my parents deported me for the summer (long story) to Royan, and the second time when I was in college I (sort of) opted to take a term abroad in Rennes. Fond memories include eating crêpes with nutella and banana on the beach, and my 5-year-old French “brother” Etienne downing cidre with lunch (a traditional alcoholic apple cider popular in Brittany). From living and traveling though parts of France, and many great NYC French restaurants (like Bouley), I’ve developed an affinity for French fare. I don’t discriminate, give me bistro or haute cuisine, I am in.

And then I moved to LA. The French food scene is dismal at best, and I don’t appreciate overpriced bills on average food at places like Anisette, or just all around bad food at La Cachette. And then came Church & State. I checked out the menu online and it seemed pretty standard with dishes like steak frites, croque monsieur, les huitres (oysters), soupe à l’oignon…you get the idea. However, unlike most LA French spots, all the food on this menu was very reasonably priced with most entrees under $20 and appetizers in the $10 range. At that point I would say that I was interested Continue reading Church and State

Blue Velvet

I’ve been to Blue Velvet twice in the past two years, and each time I’ve had a solid dining experience. And to clarify, solid, in my book, is positive. I liked the market driven menu, fun cocktails, and an alleged rooftop veggie and herb garden. I went back to BV the other night with a friend and we both had this totally weird dining experience.

 We entered the somewhat out of the way restaurant and stood for a minute or so by the host stand- there was no host. The sole waiter in the restaurant apparently served as the host as well and he sat us at a two top. The restaurant was empty save for 3 other tables. Next, we approached the menu, but before I could even read what was printed, I noticed the cheap blue paper (probably from Staples) on which it was printed. Continue reading Blue Velvet

Nick and Stef’s Steakhouse

After living in LA for almost three years now (I moved from NYC), it’s quite odd that, in the hundreds of dinners I’ve eaten out, I’ve somehow never eaten at a Patina Group restaurant. I have, however, grabbed many a milkshake at Milk, which is owned by a former Patina chef, however I’ve managed to miss all such restaurants that fall within the actual Patina organization.

Trying to evaluate logically how such an oversight could have occurred in my restaurant repertoire (or lack there of), I blame it on the overpopulation of Los Angeles. There are too many cars on the road at any given time, and since LA is relatively spaced out, trekking from the West Side to Downtown can be like commuting to another country, especially between the hours of 4 pm to 7 pm. Yuck.

I guess not alllll Patina restaurants are downtown, but the most notable are including Patina, Pinot Bistro, Zucca Ristorante, Kendall’s Brasserie and Bar, and Nick and Stef’s Steakhouse, the latter of which I recently visited. Continue reading Nick and Stef’s Steakhouse

Cole’s

It may not seem like a big deal, but nothing is more comforting to me than a glass of wine and a grilled cheese sandwich. If you add an overcast sky to the equation, a crunchy homemade pickle, and a bowl of tomato soup— just stick a fork in me, I’m done.

Lucky for me, my friend dragged me to Cole’s for lunch today. We sat at the tables outside, where you could look through the glass window front into main part of the restaurant pub. There I saw a woman sitting by herself, enjoying a glass of white wine and a grilled cheese sandwich with a side of tomato soup. I almost clapped my hands with joy.

Actually, the soup was tomato and red pepper, and the sandwich had both Swiss and cheddar cheese on it. I already knew what I wanted, but went ahead and perused the rest of the brief menu that advertised atomic pickles for .50 cents and French Dip sandwiches with a variety of interchangeable meats and cheeses to choose from. Continue reading Cole’s

Bottega Louie

If you’re reading downtownster you might already have a feel for our style—we’re not a news blog, meaning that we don’t run around and look to break the latest greatest story in less than six hundred words. Frankly we leave that to Ed and Eric at blogdowntown. No, our mission at downtownster is to find stories and get involved in them—we’re storytellers, each with our own unique voice / point of view. And as of the time of this blog I’m pleased to say there are now fifteen downtownster writers working on stories.

            That being said, David Kean (The Realtor) mentioned to me this morning that Bottega Louie was doing a soft opening today, the official opening being next week. Three years in the making all the usual words have been written. I did however want to stop by to see if Bottega Louie belonged on the downtownster story list, so here I sit—literally. Am I breaking a story and the downtownster mission? Yeah. Funny thing that I can’t even not break my own rules.

            Why? I walked into the space and ran right into Leslie, formerly of Roy’s fame; the tour began immediately. Words and phrases came to my mind with blistering rapidity. Continue reading Bottega Louie